Fiancé

Chapter 4

Affably Blue

"Me either. I bet if I suggested a game of Quidditch, he'd cum in his pants." - Paul Rudd, Role Models

I woke up on Thursday morning to the sound of a sharp tapping on my window. Feeling surprisingly energetic, I sprang to my feet and eagerly went to the window to let Calypso into my room. She zoomed past me and went straight for her water dish.

I laughed. "Did Hest make you cross a desert, or something?" I asked Callie as I put a few owl treats into her bowl.

She hooted up at me and then reluctantly flew over and stuck her leg out.

I started untying the letter strapped to her talon. "Thanks, boo," I said as I stroked her wing fondly.

Callie flew back to her food and started pecking at it very intently.

I turned the neon orange letter over in my hand and then started reading.

Lily-bear!

¡Hola, chica! (Ahh. Do you remember Spain? Well, obviously not because you weren't there. But do you remember when I went to Spain? Merlin, it was nice. Actually, scratch that. It was much much better than nice. Why is it so bloody cold in England? I'm so sick of the rain. It makes my hair frizz out, my stupid cankles fit horribly into galoshes and it's such a pain in the bum to walk when there's no room, and I'm almost as pasty as you right now from the lack of sun).

Okay, so yesterday was my first official day as a Daily Prophet reporter. I got up extra early and wore my black skirt with my purple top (you know the one that shows off my cleavage really well?) and these awesome pumps I've had in my closet for ages. So with full Hestia Attitude, I strutted into that office and let them know that Hestia Jones was reporting for duty.

And then they made me get coffee.

Oh yeah. Seven years of schooling, nine application article samples, and eighteen years of Jonesing, and I am fully qualified to conjure up some coffee.

Bite me.

It got better after that. I got to file paperwork and check facts and alphabetize things. Oooh. A dream come true.

My" mentor" is this complete slag named Rita Skeeter. She's in her mid-to-late twenties (though, I'd doubt she'd say she's older than 21), blonde (of course. She would be), and I'm pretty sure she wasn't wearing knickers. I caught her flirting with about everything that moved in that office. If there was a fly zooming around, she probably would have banged it.

But, I digress.

I don't care how scarlet the A on her chest is because I HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT!

I, Hestia Syl Jones, have my first ever assignment as a reporter. I am going to be covering (I'm sorry my handwriting looks like crap here, but I am so bloody excited that my hand is literally shaking and I'm still recovering from the eight cups of coffee I had yesterday while I was forced to keep making Rita coffees until there was exactly two teaspoons of skim milk and three-quarters packet of sugar substitute in it)...a QUIDDITCH MATCH!

You read that right. Freaking Quidditch! Can you believe it!

Here's the what:

My new bossman, Barnabas Cuffe, walked in and was all, "Rita! Zyaire is sick! I need you to cover his story on the Puddlemere game tomorrow."

And then Rita got into a huge fit about how she's busy with some huge scoop on this scandal she just discovered and doesn't have time to cover "such a vulgar game."

And then Cuffe turned to me and said, "Kid, you know anything about Quidditch?"

And I told him how I was on the Gryffindor Team. I had this huge explanation for him all about how much I knew about the history of the game and whatnot, but he cut me off and just said, "Fine, kid. Game's at four tomorrow. Tickets are at reception. I want the article on my desk Friday morning." And then he walked away.

Oh Sweet Merlin, Lily!

I'm going to be writing a sports piece about Quidditch! And okay, they're not the Harpies (the best team ever on the planet, duh!), but they're pretty decent. Plus, the blokes on the team are fit (Rita must obviously not keep up with the teams because otherwise she'd be waving her press badge all over those fine Quidditch muscles).

Eek!

I have the best job in the world!

Okay, so there's five tickets in all. Me, you, Sirius, and James. Peter's visiting his aunt, and Remus isn't feeling well. My mum wants me to take Tyler with me, but he's being a complete prat lately. He thinks he's so cool because he's thirteen now and can go to Hogsmeade in September. Um, hello? I graduated. I am infinitely cooler than him. I have a job now. And I'm covering a Quidditch Match.

Enough said.

Do you know anybody else who can come? I don't want to waste a free ticket!

Ahh. I've got more coffee to make. These people get super cranky when they don't have their caffeine fix. Pick you up around three? Trust me, nothing your sister wants you to do will be worth missing this. The boy and I will apparate to your house. Owl me, lovely!

Yours,

Hestia, xoxox

Laughing mirthfully, I grinned down at the letter. Hastily, I wrote out a reply to Hestia that three o'clock sounded wonderful and that I, indeed, did know someone who might want to come.

I turned to Callie, who looked bloody tired as she slumped on the perch in her cage. "How much are you going to hate me for this?" I asked her warily.

With a fair bit of coaxing, I finally managed to persuade a very annoyed looking Calypso to send my reply to Hestia.

Nursing the bite marks on my right pointer finger, I raced down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen. James and my dad were sitting at the table, throwing a yellow-green tennis ball back and forth to each other.

"Guys, I have news," I announced momentously.

"That's great, sweetie," said Dad, sounding preoccupied as he threw the ball back to James.

"Yeah," agreed James, who caught the ball in one hand with ease before shooting it back.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "Don't you even want to hear what it is?"

Dad snatched the ball zooming at his head. "Maybe later, hun."

"We're a bit busy," added James.

Growling, I stepped in between them and caught the ball mid-air.

"Hey!" protested James.

"We were setting a new record!" griped my 53 year-old father.

That's right: 53.

"I have news," I declared again. "Hestia got free tickets to a Quidditch match. If you two can stop playing for five minutes, you're invited to come along." I finished my speech by chucking the ball at James's head.

He dodged it right in time, and it bounced back towards me. I picked it up.

"Are you serious?" James asked in a reverent tone.

"No, but he's coming too," I answered.

James grinned. "I thought you hated Sirius puns."

"And I thought you had better reflexes," I teased as I shoved the tennis ball into his chest.

"We're really going to see an actual Quidditch game?" Dad asked, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Would I lie to you?"

Dad let out a hoop in victory, and James hugged me tightly.

As I wrapped my arms around him, we both became acutely aware that I was not wearing a bra underneath my pajama top.

Dad cheered again, and I slowly let go of James and backed away with flaming cheeks.

I crossed my arms across my chest and avoided James's smirk. "Yeah, well, they're picking us up at three. I'm going to go take a shower."

I scooted my rear up the stairs and fled into the bathroom before a burst of laughter broke from my lips.

Merlin, what a Thursday morning.

I took a fairly quick shower, according to my usual standards, even with getting rid of all the incessant stubble on my legs. After brushing my teeth, I traipsed into my room to get dressed. Calypso still hadn't returned, and I hoped that Hestia had had the presence of mind to let her crash with her. I opened the window so that she could come in at any time. The poor bird was probably going to collapse. I needed to buy that book on giving owl massages.

I decided to wear my blue shorts that were just a tad darker than the actual Puddlemere color with a yellow halter top. With a few choice expletives, I spent about twenty minutes twisting and coaxing my slippery hair into two French braids before meticulously applying eyeliner, mascara, and even a bit of shimmer across my eyes.

It was around eleven by the time I made it back downstairs to the kitchen.

"Henry! I don't care if it was the Football World Cup! You cannot just leave the house willy nilly three days before your daughter's wedding!"

"But, April, dear, when am I ever going to get another chance to go to a Quidditch match?"

"Your daughter's wedding!" Mum hissed back irately.

"Which isn't until three days," Dad argued. "You just said."

"Henry!"

"James, help me out," Dad pleaded to James, who looked resistant to say anything. Dad turned around and spotted me lurking in the hallway. "Lily!"

Fiddlesticks! I had been so close to sneaking back up the stairs without anyone noticing me. I sighed and slumped into the kitchen. "Yes, Dad?"

"Tell your mother that she's being ridiculous."

"The tickets are really hard to come by," I offered feebly.

Dad grinned widely.

"But," I continued, "Tuney's wedding is only three days away, and aren't you guys meeting with the people at the church today?"

Mum clicked her tongue approvingly while Dad mouthed "Traitor" at me.

"I just got the tickets today. It's not my fault."

"But your father should not be heading somewhere across the country when there are weddings to prepare for here at home," Mum said with a pointed look at Dad before she turned to face me.

"But what other time is there for this? Besides, we'll only be gone a few hours," Dad coaxed as he, too, looked at me for support.

I held up my hands in surrender. "I don't want to get caught in the middle of this. You guys figure it out."

I flicked my eyes over at James, who nodded thankfully, and we vamoosed out of there.

We sashayed up the stairs as quickly as we could manage, though it still did not muffle the yells echoing from the kitchen.

"We'll be home from the church in time, April!"

"But what if we need to stay later?"

"Then we'll just take separate cars!"

"Henry!"

Rolling my eyes, I followed James towards the guest bedroom.

"Lily!" Mum screamed.

Wincing, I looked up at James. "Remember that I loved you when I'm dead," I told him solemnly.

He sighed dramatically and then kissed me one last time. "It's going to be hard breaking in a new girlfriend," he lamented. "I had almost tricked you into marrying me."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah."

"Lily!"

I groaned and checked down the stairs. "Gotta go."

"Good luck," James called out chirpily as I headed down the stairs.

I shot him an annoyed look. "Thanks," I replied darkly.

"LILY!"

I stumbled down the stairs and trudged into the kitchen. "Turn the stress dial back down to the regular insane level, Mum. I'm here."

"Lily," Dad scolded.

"Sorry," I said quickly as I headed towards the cabinet. If I was going to be forced to mediate my parents, at least I was going to eat. I pulled out a jar of peanut butter and then grabbed a nearby loaf of bread.

"Your father and I are leaving," Mum began as she shot Dad an icy look. "I called Father Cletus, and he's going to let us meet with him a few hours earlier."

"That's great," I replied with a forced bit of enthusiasm in my voice as I used a knife to spread peanut butter across my second slice of bread.

"We will be back around 2:30 so that you can all go to your silly game together," Mum continued, sounding as if she was indulging a three year old with a bar of chocolate.

I grinned, and Dad winked back at me.

"Mum, have I mentioned yet today that you're the best Mum on the planet in the history of all the Mums ever?" I asked sweetly.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't think I'm not annoyed with you, too, Lily Marie. You're both going to be putting extra time in tomorrow to make up for this," she warned testily.

"You've got it, Mum," I told her. "I'll clean bathrooms, toilets even," I promised through bites of peanut butter.

She sighed as she grabbed my father's hand. "If anyone calls, let the machine get it. It's more reliable."

"Mum!" I shrieked, affronted, as peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth.

"No time for your cheek and protests, dear. We have to meet your sister at the church," Mum called as she forced Dad down the hallway.

"See you soon!" Dad added excitedly over his shoulder.

I shook my head and popped the last bit of sandwich into my mouth before plunking myself back up the stairs.

"James!" I called loudly as I reached the top step.

After a moment, he stuck his head out of his bedroom door. "Yes, love?"

"Guess what!" I said excitedly.

"What?"

I groaned. "You have to guess!"

"Fine," he acceded indulgingly. "The Minister of Magic just released a decree stating that from now on all wizards must start walking on their hands, magic carpets are legal again, and house-elves have supreme control of the universe."

I had been fully prepared to say "no," but his response puzzled me so much that I lost my words. Tilting my head to the side, I eyed him questioningly. "What was that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You told me to guess."

I sighed. "Fine, I'll tell you. Mum and Dad just left to meet Tuna and Fish at the church, and we have three whole hours for ourselves before they get back for the game."

James smirked. "Wicked."

I smiled demurely at him as I dragged my foot across the floor tantalizingly. "So," I purred out. "What do you want to do?"

He stepped out of the room eagerly. His eyes light with excitement, James asked, "Blue or red?"

I eyed him with confusion.

"Just pick," he urged, his voice audibly fighting to restrain his eagerness.

"Red," I chose.

He grinned and revealed the red and blue water guns he was hiding behind his back. "I found these in your basement."

I laughed. "Game on."

"Bring it, Evans," he told me before tossing me my weapon.

A little over two hours later, I was frantically refilling my water gun with my wand. My back was up against the lower cabinets in the kitchen as I crouched in cover. A bit of sweat was forming on the back of my neck, but it just mixed in with the rest of the water spots I had received from our game. I heard a noise and scanned the area immediately. Adrenaline pumping, I crawled over to the refrigerator and then stood up behind it.

A large clunk sounded, and smoke began to fill the kitchen.

"Scandinavian Smog Starter," I realized aloud. "Damn." I crept a few steps forward to try to make out what had detonated it when I felt an object pressed up against my lower back.

"Surrender," James hissed.

"Never," I replied defiantly.

"Then you leave me no choice," he replied.

James spun around and backed me up against the refrigerator. His blue water gun was aimed between my eyes. "I'll give you one more chance," he offered meaningfully.

"Just do it."

Assurance forming in his green and golden eyes, James tightened his grasp on his gun and fingered the trigger.

I closed my eyes and prepared to redo all of my mascara.

"Am I interrupting something?" an amused voice asked.

I popped one eye open to see dark hair, gray eyes, and a glinting smirk. "Sirius?"

"'Lo, Lily," he greeted back. "What's going on? Is this some weird sex thing? Cause I think you're doing it wrong."

I laughed and pushed James's gun, which he had lowered slightly in shock, away from me. "How'd you get in here?" I asked.

"Yeah?" James chimed in. "Who let the dog in?"

Sirius barked in laughter and held up his wand. "Wizard, remember? I know we're done with school, but I still remember the easy stuff. By the way, Lily, darling, you should really think about better security."

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, anyone could just walk right in."

Smiling widely, James strode over to Sirius and hugged his friend. "Good to see you, mate," he said, clapping his back firmly before releasing him.

"And the lady, too," Sirius urged me with open arms. "C'mon, I'm extremely huggable."

Torn between rolling my eyes and laughing, I, too, gave Sirius a warm hug so that my face was pressed right up against his white t-shirt. He picked me up off my feet and kissed my cheek before setting me down and messing my hair up. "You've been taking care of my boy?" he asked with concern.

I nodded my head dutifully. "Just the way you left him," I promised. "Now where's my girl?"

Sirius sighed. "Hest had to stay at work late. She said something about misfiling, or whatever. I don't know. You know how she rambles off in different directions."

I nodded. I definitely knew.

"Anyway, she's promised to meet us at the match. She owled me these just in case," Sirius continued as he held up four tickets.

"Excellent," said James, eyeing them longingly.

I grinned before I straightened out my top. It had two large wet spots on my stomach. "Ugh," I groaned. "I'm going to go change. You two can stay down here and have girl talk," I added with a wink.

The bid my goodbye, and I clambered towards the stairs. "Don't let him eat all the food, James!"

"I'll try!" was his shouted response.

When I got into my room, I stripped my top off and threw it on my bed. I heard a soft hooting and looked over to see Calypso perched in her cage and sleeping soundly. I filled up her water and food dishes for when she woke up before closing my bedroom window. I couldn't be too careful, especially while Sirius was here.

I retouched my smudged makeup quickly before magically drying my top and putting it back on. I found a forgotten pair of goldenrod wedges that were stuck all the way in the back of my closet and slipped those onto my feet.

Traipsing down the stairs a few minutes later, I found James and Sirius seated in front of the television in the living room. Both had half-devoured sandwiches in front of them.

"Figures," I muttered.

"Lily!" Sirius greeted through a mouth full of salami. "Want some?"

I contorted my face in disgust. "Tempting, but no," I answered. "I'll just try to keep the contents of my stomach in place for now."

"Suit yourself," he replied with another gargantuan bite.

"Ugh," I groaned as I swatted his feet off the coffee table and then sat down on my dad's armchair. "Do you have any manners at all?"

He swallowed and then grinned at me cheekily. "You're beginning to sound like my dear mum, Lily," he replied as he brushed his hands off on his black jeans. "This dog can't be housebroken. It's a right shame. A nice bloke like me, you'd think all I need was a little bit of love."

"Got you covered there, mate," James promised.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked, sounding touched.

"Yeah," he replied with the same goofy tone.

I heard the door open, and I turned to look towards the hallway before gazing back at the mesmerized couple on the loveseat. "I'll get it. Just stay there."

Mum, Dad, and Petunia were walking through the hallway from the garage.

"Hey, Lily," greeted Mum, who sounded much calmer than earlier with her arm wrapped around Petunia in a hug.

"Hey!" I said back. "I'm guessing that the meeting with Father Cletus was successful?"

"Yep," Dad replied. "Everything is all ready for the rehearsal on Saturday. There was no need to worry," he added with a pointed look at my mum.

"Oh, hush, Henry," she scolded. "Go get ready for your ridiculous game."

Dad grinned with excitement and then retreated towards the stairs.

"Where's James?" Mum asked with an obvious attempt at trying to seem casual.

"He's in the living room," I answered. Nervously, I watched as she started heading in that direction. "I should warn you that-"

Bam!

Sirius hit my mother with such force that I could actually hear the sound of their bodies collide. "Mama Evans!" he chirped loudly as he released my mother from his grasp. "It's bloody fantastic to see you."

Frantically, I shot a sideways glance at James, who merely shrugged back with an equal look of wonder on his face.

Mum patted at her hair to smooth it down. "Yes," she agreed in an attempt to be diplomatic. "But who exactly are you?"

Sirius's jaw dropped in blatant theatrics. Flabbergasted, he turned to me. "Lily, you haven't told your mum all about me?"

"Must have slipped my mind," I murmured sourly.

Sirius took a deep breath before plastering a dazzling grin onto his face. "I'm Sirius Black, James's best mate."

"Oh," Mum breathed in realization. "I have heard you mentioned before. James has told me stories about you. He never mentioned that you were so handsome."

I closed my eyes in embarrassment. Merlin, my mother.

"It's a gift and a curse," Sirius said solemnly before the smirk returned. "And now that you've got the name with face, you never got to replace, Mummy E," Sirius promised her with a wink.

Mum giggled a bit before she introduced Petunia to Sirius and went to go get him a glass of ice water with lemon, only three ice cubes.

Dazed, I had to sit down next to James on the couch.

"So you're getting married then?" Sirius asked Petunia as he eyed her thoroughly.

Petunia crossed her arms across her chest uncomfortably. "Yes," she answered stiffly.

"Shame," Sirius sighed. "If only I had come over a few years earlier," he lamented.

"Sirius!" I hissed. "You have a girlfriend."

"But it's not every day you meet someone as pretty as a flower," he crooned as he threw his arm over Petunia, effectively bursting her personal bubble. "Lily, I knew you had a sister, but you never said how beautiful she was. Trying to avoid all that sibling rivalry, eh?" He winked at me before turning his attention back to Petunia. "Say, love, how much do you love your fiancé?"

Petunia's face burned red. "I—um, er," she stammered in mortification.

"Sirius," James warned testily.

The devil sighed and then grabbed my sister's hand and kissed it. "In another life, Cherie," he promised.

As soon as he released Petunia, she blushed even darker. If I did not know any better, she had a bit of a pleased smile on her face. "It was nice to meet you," she stammered, effectively charmed by James's slimeball of a best mate. Damn, I couldn't even call him a slimeball because his stupid long dark hair was immaculately groomed and shiny, but not greasy. Curse Sirius Black, the smarmy git.

"The pleasure was completely and utterly mine," he promised back suavely.

Just in case I had forgotten to mention, Sirius Black was a charming prick.

Then Petunia, my stick in the mud, prudent, reliable, disapproving sister, scurried away with a dreamy look on her face.

Sirius had the audacity to check out her bum as she walked away.

"Nice," he commented.

"You would know, considering you are one," I quipped.

"Aww, Lilykins, you think I'm nice?" Sirius cooed.

I turned to James for help with pleading eyes.

He shrugged. "My mum's enamored by him too."

Sirius grinned as he sauntered into my father's chair and leaned it back onto its hind legs. "What can I say? I'm an enchanting son of a bitch."

Moments later, Mum rushed in with Sirius's cold beverage. Trying to ignore his blatant flirting with the woman who gave birth to me, I turned to James.

"Looks like you've got competition," I mumbled to him in an undertone.

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not too worried."

"Oh, really?" I asked curiously. "You think you've got him beat?"

I eyed Sirius's face, noticing the way his dark eyebrows and long, thick hair framed his face exactly to give him a decidedly aristocratic look that contrasted greatly with the glint of his smirking eyes that screamed trouble.

James scoffed. "No one can beat Sirius at inveiglement. There's only one girl whose opinion I really care about, though."

I hummed in amusement. "Would I happen to know her?"

James sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he shook his head at me with bright eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He kissed my nose and then grabbed my hand before leaning back onto the couch.

Then, for nearly fifteen minutes, we sat together in the living room as we watched the most horribly blatant display of flirting that I ever had the displeasure of viewing.

Finally, my dad came downstairs. I had never been so happy to see someone wearing a worn t-shirt tucked into waist-high shorts with socks that went up to his mid-calf. No, he was not going to stick out like a sore thumb at all. Dad was just your average pointer finger.

After we removed Sirius from my mum's presence, which nearly required a hose, Sirius, James, Dad, and I ventured into the backyard.

As James was looking around to make sure that none of the neighbors were around, I looked up to see that Petunia was watching us out of the blinds on her window. Sirius must have noticed, as well, because he started blowing her kisses.

"Would you stop?" I asked him.

He grinned wolfishly at me. "Feeling a little envious?" he asked mockingly.

"No," I declared firmly. "I just happen to be a good best friend. Besides, my sister is taken."

"Not until she says, 'I do,' love," he told me as he waved back up at Petunia.

"Merlin, Sirius, could you stop trying to charm the pants off my sister?"

"Oh, so would you rather have me as a father than a brother, then?"

I smacked him in the back of the head. "You're like a dog that needs to be fixed," I told him in disgust.

"If you only knew, Lilyzerd," he replied.

"The coast is clear," James announced. "Everyone remember the coordinates?"

Sirius and I nodded.

"Let's do this," said James.

"Okay, Dad, grab my hand."

Hesitantly, my Dad placed his hand in mine. His fingers were shaking and a bit clammy. "Hey," I said to him. "There's nothing to be nervous about. I've got you."

He smiled weakly. "That's supposed to be my line," he joked feebly, his face looking a little green.

Deciding I better do this quickly, I grasped his hand tight. "Hold on to me," I directed him. "You're going to feel a pull at your stomach, and you will get disoriented. That's normal. You'll be fine. I promise. But you might throw up."

"Lily, I-" Dad began in an anxious voice.

It was too late. I pictured the landing zone in my mind, spun on my heel, and turned. The air around us swallowed us whole as we became a part of the air, itself. I could almost hear the sounds of Dad's labored breathing as my braids whipped around in the whooshing air. I tightened my grip on his hand to try to reassure him. Images zoomed around me, making me feel dizzy and confused, but I slammed my eyelids shut and pictured the landing zone.

After only a second, my feet hit the ground. I teetered about backwards from the force of the impact, but I stayed upright.

My dad, however, did not. I looked down to see him sprawled out on the grass. I leaned down to help him up.

"Are you all right?" I asked with concern.

He sat up slowly and fixed his glasses, which were falling precariously down his nose. "I think so?" he replied. He grabbed my proffered hand and rose to his feet before dusting off his pants. "Well, that was something I never want to experience again."

"Just once more to get home, I promise, Dad," I said. "But, hey, Quidditch!"

I gestured to the crowds of wizards popping up around us, all with varying degrees of either Puddlemere United or Wigtown Wanderers memorabilia on.

"Quidditch," Dad repeated with a huge smile.

"Hey, there you are," James said as he and Sirius found us. "Side-along work out okay?"

"You'd think he was a wizard," I answered.

"Rock on, Mr. Evans!" Sirius said as he bumped my father's fist. He threw his arm around him. "Stick with me. I'll clue you into the match."

I grabbed Sirius's arm, making sure to dig whatever nails I had into his skin. "Sirius Black, don't you dare try to seduce my father, too."

Sirius stared at me with a shocked expression. "Now, Lily, how could you accuse me of such a thing?"

I narrowed my eyes at him in my best impression of Professor McGonagall. "Sirius," I warned.

"C'mon, Lily. Am I the most reliable person on this planet or am I even more reliable-er than that guy?"

I let out a little whine of foreboding.

James threw his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. "Don't worry about it, Lils. Quidditch, remember?"

I put a smile back onto my face. "Quidditch."

We meandered through the throngs of Quidditch fans with a relative quickness. Even though it wasn't a Quidditch World Cup, there was still a lot of excitement for the match because Puddlemere was only one game behind the Wanderers to place as the leader in their division. Everyone was buzzing with excitement. I even spotted a few tents from wizards who had probably camped out trying to get tickets to the match.

As we walked through the crowds to the pitch, I kept overhearing bits and pieces of people's conversations.

"There's no way that Cindy Scott can outfly Boyd. He's the best seeker in the league. Best Puddlemere's had in ages."

"Well, I've heard the Department of Magical Games and Sports is looking into Puddlemere's equality in employment. The beater's the only girl on the team. I can just smell a lawsuit."

"I'll give you five galleons on the Wanderers. No way are they going to lose this match. Their defense is just way too good."

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen Puddlemere fly lately? Ward has the best aim I've ever seen from a chaser. She's a prodigy!"

"Do you reckon Guevara's arm has healed up since her latest injury? I know they say she's programmed to be a beater, but even she's got to have some limitations, yeah?"

As we neared closer to the pitch, James stopped briefly to buy a Puddlemere jersey, declaring that he needed to "support his team." Although I was horrorstricken by paying 15 galleons for a shirt, I did not exactly mind when James stripped off his other shirt to put the new one on.

Okay, so it wasn't only Sirius who had a twisted mind.

After waiting in a rather long line, we finally approached the witch who was collecting tickets. "Wands out, please," she requested. "You have to go through security."

When Dad handed her his ticket, she asked again to see his wand.

"He doesn't have one," I told her. "He's a muggle."

She nodded. "Okay, then, you'll have to get in that line over there, sir, to sign a Statute of Secrecy document. Standard procedure," she pointed us towards the right, and we followed Dad towards a very official looking Ministry employee.

"Name, please," he said.

"Henry Evans," my dad answered.

"Okay, please sign here saying that you understand that this is a wizarding event and that, by law, you are ordered to withhold the secrecy by not disclosing the location of this arena, describing its events, or even acknowledging the existence of magic to anyone. Any violation of these aforementioned violations will result in a full trial in a court in Wizengamot, which could ultimately result in the obliviation of your memory and possibly time in Azkaban. Do you understand?"

"Yes," my dad replied quickly with a huge nod of his head. He looked at me nervously, and I gave him a reassuring smile.

"All right," replied the wizard in a business-like tone as he handed Dad a quill. "Please sign the parchment here," he said as he gestured to a spot at the bottom of the paper.

Dad fumbled with the quill but, nevertheless, scribbled out his name.

"Thank you, sir, please enjoy the game."

"Thanks," said Dad agreeably.

I thanked the official, as well, before we left to go find our seats. Hestia had snagged us amazing seats in the Press Box of the stadium, nearly all the way up. Merlin, I had the best best friend.

We climbed the flights and flights of stairs to the top. After the sixth or seventh flight, my dad and I were having a bit of trouble. My breathing was coming out a bit labored and my legs hurt. Sirius was coping pretty decently, but James was still going strong. Stupid, exercising person.

When I was just about ready to keel over and felt so out of it that I was actually considering getting a gym membership, we made it to the right floor. We entered the pitch at level J8 and filed into the box of seats. A few wizards and witches were already seated and talking amiably, but there were still quite a few empty chairs left since the game was not to start for another fifteen minutes.

Hestia was waiting for us in the second row. Her legs were crossed in her tight purple skirt and there was a bright press pass clipped onto her olive green blouse. Her dark hair was arranged into a knot on the back of her head with a few loose strands falling into her eyes. She clicked her pink pen furiously as she let her hand hover on top of her notebook.

Sirius called out to her, and she jumped out of her chair with a huge smile on her face. "You made it!" she squealed happily.

"Promised I'd get them here on time, didn't I?" Sirius replied as sneaked up behind her, kissed her cheek, wrapped his arms around her middle, and placed his chin on top of her head.

"Did you give the Evans a hard time?" she asked knowingly. "I told you not to be yourself."

"I wasn't myself," Sirius pouted. "I was better than myself, by a factor of at least eleven."

Hestia sighed. "I apologize for him," she told us.

"No serious harm done," I teased.

Hestia grinned and ran out of Sirius's arms to hug me. "Oh, Lily! It feels like ages since I've seen you!" she yelped into my ear. "I've got loads to tell you!"

"Me too!" I agreed, thinking about the meeting last night with Moody.

Hestia let go of me and turned to my left to talk to James when her eyes widened. She narrowed in on my left hand, specifically my left ring finger, before she looked at me with a dumbfounded expression.

I fingered the ring anxiously. Merlin, why hadn't I taken it off before we came? Explaining that to my father would have been easier than explaining this to Hestia.

"Hest," I warned her.

She grabbed my hand and started pulling me up the stairs. "We'll be back!" she yelled down to the boys as she continued to yank me through the crowds of people.

Her alligator pumps clacked loudly on the floor as she darted through different openings in the crowd.

"Hestia, where are you taking us?" I yelled to her over the dim.

She didn't answer but continued on her winding path. She jerked me into a bathroom, brushed past the long line of women and girls waiting for an open toilet, and pushed me into a stall that a stunned girl just left. Hestia barged in, locked the door, took out her wand, and cast a Muffliato spell.

"Hest," I tried again, "what are you doing?"

"You're engaged!"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Huh?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"No."

She sighed. "I'm confussed. Splainy, please."

"They let you into the Daily Prophet with that kind of grammar?" I quipped with a smile.

Hestia frowned and pushed me back onto the toilet. "Not the time, Lily Evans. As your best friend, I demand an explanation. Why do you have the rock the size of Sirius's ego on your finger?"

"All right, all right," I sighed as I got off the toilet, because eww, and brushed myself off. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," she told me as she folded her arms across her chest.

I rubbed my face in my hand as I tried to figure out the best way to phrase it. "James and I are faking an engagement."

She snorted. "Like the time last summer when you faked a relationship but were really in a relationship and didn't tell me the whole time it was happening?" she accused sharply.

I winced. "Sort of," I answered.

"Lily, this is not helping your case," she warned me.

I sighed and launched myself into the whole sordid ordeal from its very beginning. "And now we're just trying to keep things low-key for the present in hopes that the hype will die down with Tuney's wedding," I finished lamely.

Hestia sighed as I saw her brain whizzing behind her bright blue eyes. "Lily," she said finally. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

I exhaled. "Guilty."

She tutted at me. "How could you be so dumb, girl? You got into this big, huge mess again, and you know what your biggest problem is?"

"Explaining this to my mother?"

"That you didn't have your girl to help you," she answered.

I smiled at her. "I love you, Hest."

"Love you too, Lils," she replied. "Now show me that ring."

Chuckling, I shoved my left hand at her. Hestia grabbed my fingers and expected the ring.

"Not too shabby," she commented. "Guess the Potter Trust Fund is doing okay."

"Says it was a family heirloom," I replied.

"Ouchies," she winced. "Now you're never going to get out of this."

"Ugh," I groaned as I put my head on her shoulder.

"My little Lilykins married," she teased as she pinched my cheek. "Can I be a bridesmaid?"

"There's no wedding!" I insisted.

She sighed dramatically. "So, hypothetically speaking, if there was to be fake wedding between my best friend and her fictional fiancé, could I be a bridesmaid?"

I eyed her hopeful eyes and her pleading pout with disdain. "Whatever," I grumbled.

"Yay!" she cheered, putting her arms in the air. "Aww! You're going to be such a beautiful bride!"

"Hest! There's no wedding!"

"Puh-lease," she slurred. "You are going to marry that boy or I will send you to a mental hospital to have your head examined."

"Room with a view, please?" I requested.

"Course, girl. I've got your back."

I grinned at her. "So I can trust you not to tell anyone about this? We're still trying to keep this under wraps."

"Yes, yes, Miss Secretive. Though, I fully plan on telling you that this will probably bite you in the ass."

I nodded. "Duly noted."

Hestia hugged me again. "Tell me stuff next time. That's why I'm here. Even when I don't understand the way your brain misfires, I got you."

I sighed in relief, my shoulders literally giving way. "Thanks, Hest." I looked around at the small walls of the bathroom stall. "Can we go watch the game now?"

Her eyes went wide. "Damn! I've got a story to cover! We've got to go!"

She shoved the stall door opened and emerged into the rest of the bathroom.

Nearly every pair of eyes zeroed in on me as I walked out after her. Hestia noticed this and shot them all a dirty look. "What? We're lesbians. Mind your own business."

With that, she pulled me past the line.

I overhead a daughter whisper scandalously to her mum that we hadn't washed our hands, but the woman replied that we had "bigger problems to worry about."

I didn't have the chance to defend myself because Hestia had yanked me out the door.

"You are crazier than me!" I shouted to hear as we merged into the unmoving mass of people.

"Um, excuse me," she yelled back, "but I'm not the one who's faking an engagement."

"Secret!" I hissed at her.

"Right, right," she sighed. "Super stupid secret, gotchas."

We squeezed our way through the floor until we made it back to the doors for our section. Able to hear again, I turned to Hestia. "You know, your boyfriend tried to seduce my family."

She rolled her eyes. "My boyfriend tries to seduce anything with at least two legs," she told me. "But he only really succeeds with me. Don't worry. He's just a dog barking at passing cars."

"You sure?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," she replied back with a confident smile. "I'm sure."

She winked at me before sliding past James and plopping down in a seat next to Sirius, who was talking animatedly to my father about Merlin knows what.

Sighing, I took the seat on the end next to James. I put my head on his shoulder. "We've been found out," I whispered into his ear as I fiddled with the always sparkling diamond ringer on my left hand

"Really?" he mused as he glanced down at my hands. "How'd that go?"

"As well as could be expected," I sighed. "She wants to be a bridesmaid."

"You did explain to her that this is only a temporary solution, right?"

I shrugged. "Chance of success: zero percent. You might as well tell Sirius, too, assuming that you haven't already," I added accusingly.

He rumpled the back of his hair. "How'd you know?" he asked.

"I know you," I told him.

James grinned and put his arm on my shoulder to pull me into his side.

Right before the teams were about to take the field, five twenty-something year olds, each carrying large cups of an indiscernible liquid of questionable nature and wearing bright red robes, filed into the row behind us. "Wan-der-ers! Wan-der-ers!" they began chanting.

I guessed that the presence of a Y-chromosome made one a simpering moron.

The gigantic screen at the front of the stadium, which had just been displaying an advertisement for Zonko's, changed into a scoreboard. A hush came over the enormous crowd as we all waited anxiously for the game to begin.

A loud voice echoed throughout the stadium, and I jumped a bit in my seat.

James chuckled, and I pinched him in the side.

"Attention ladies and gentleman!" the voice bellowed loudly. "Welcome to Ilkley Moor. Today we have a great game between the Wigtown Wanderers," he paused as Wanderer fans burst into rowdy cheers and applause. "And Puddlemere United!"

I sat up in my chair and cheered loudly along with the rest of the blue supporters.

"Now, without much further ado," the commentator announced, "it is my extreme honor to introduce to you our players. First, the Wigtown Wanderers!"

Another round of ruckus applause and cheering sounded.

"Leading the team onto the pitch is Captain Max Guevara followed by White, Turner, Ward, Wilkinson, King, and Scott!"

One by one, seven figures, each clad in robes of blood red with silver emblems across the chest, zoomed onto the field. They all flew so effortlessly, like they supported their broom and not the other way around.

I glanced at the screen, which was showing a close up of Guevara's face. Her dark hair blew out behind her as she waved her beater bat into the air. Her mouth was set in a focused frown, and her eyes were dark with concentration. She was a very pretty girl but with a tough edge to her. I would not want to be alone with her in a dark alley.

"And now for the worthy opponents, Puddlemere United! Led onto the field by Keeper and Captain Frank Marshall, we have Gray, Harris, Barnes, Phillips, Griffiths, and Boyd!"

The stands erupted with noise when he announced the Puddlemere seeker. I looked back up to the screen to see Boyd waving shyly at the stands. He was slight in build, making his blue robes look like they wearing hanging off of him, and only seemed a few years older than me.

"Samuel Boyd's the best seeker in Britain right now," James told me. "He's yet to miss a snitch all season."

"Wow," I commented.

He grinned. "Yeah, wow."

The referee threw the quaffle into the air. "And we're off," the commentator declared. "Turner of the Wanderers grabs the quaffle and starts darting off towards the Puddlemere goal, but ouch! He's hit in the chest by a bludger hit by Puddlemere's own Alicia Barnes. She's a bloody excellent player. Rubbish what they're saying with all those accusations. Alex Harris of Puddlemere grabs the quaffle, tosses it to Gray who tosses it to Griffiths, who tosses it back to Harris. Harris goes left but throws it into the center hoop past Wanderers's Zack White. Goal! Zero to ten, Puddlemere. This is shaping up to be an exciting game, folks. Wanderers back with possession. Take it back to Wigtown, Ward!"

I watched the entire scene unfold with eager eyes. The players moved with such grace, despite the rough, hurried angles of their flying. I was torn between watching the action on the field, staring at the players' expressions on the large screen, and listening to the commentary. After the Wanderers had scored their fourth goal, I was starting to blend all three together.

"And that's another ten for the Wigtown Wanderers. Forty to thirty, in favor of the red. Alex Harris is back with the quaffle. He's zooming like a bullet down the field towards White. The other Puddlemere chasers are flanked on either side. He's almost in scoring position."

I watched as the blue robes zoomed towards us. Almost out of nowhere, three blobs of red came and crashed into him. I winced at the collision. "Ouch," I remarked.

James hissed in pain, as well. "That's got to hurt."

The blokes behind us cheered so loudly that one even spilled a bit of his drink that missed my shoulder by a few centimeters.

"Oi! Watch it!" I called.

"And a beautifully executed attack by the Wigtown chasers. That's what we like to call a Parkin's Pincer, made famous by the Wanderers, in fact. Okay, so Mel Ward grabs the quaffle. She throws it to Gray. Gray dodges a bludger and nearly collides into Puddlemere beater Griffiths, but he slides back on his broom and is still zooming towards the hoops. Keeper Frank Marshall is flying around the center hoop. He's a Veteran player; not many no more about the game than him. Gray throws it to the right hoop, and I can't believe it! Marshall stops it! What a play! Marshall nearly dismounts his broom to pull off an amazing Starfish and Stick. You don't see those every day! Bloke could have fallen straight down!"

I had literally covered my hands with my hands as I had watched the play. The keeper had released his broom so that he was only hanging on by one arm and leg as his other outstretched limbs dangled in the air. He punched the ball away, and I only exhaled after he was back safely on his broom.

"Yes!" Sirius screamed as he stood up in his chair. His roar almost drowned out the groans of the rather loud blokes sitting behind us.

James clapped enthusiastically before sticking his fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly.

"You can do that?" I asked, impressed.

"I can do that," he replied.

Grinning, I turned my attention back to the game. The second Wigtown beater, Benjamin King, had just pelted one of the Puddlemere chasers in the face.

"I think Griffiths nose is broken," the announcer remarked.

I looked at the close up image of Griffiths and saw the blood flowing freely from his nose. My fingers braced the arms of my chairs as I felt the tension of the game begin to frazzle my nerves.

"Marshall calls a timeout for Puddlemere. That's the first timeout for Puddlemere United. The score is 80 to 60 in favor of the Wigtown Wanderers."

I looked over to see Hestia scribbling furiously into her notebook. Sirius was talking animatedly to my father.

"Enjoying yourself, Dad?" I asked as I leaned over James.

He grinned. "This is awesome."

"And the players are returning to position again. Ed Wilkinson of the Wigtown Wanderers takes the quaffle. That's a nice Sloth Grip Roll to avoid that bludger-but oh! He drops the quaffle. Harris grabs it and Puddlemere has regained possession of the quaffle. He reverse passes to Griffiths, who tosses it to Gray. Gray swerves around Turner and passes back to Harris. Harris is heading towards the goal. Wigtown Keeper Zack White is using the Double Eight Loop defense strategy. You usually only see that when there's a penalty shot, but I reckon White's being extra cautious due to Gray's accuracy. Gray starts the shot and-Merlin! Who could have seen that coming?"

I hissed as Gray slipped off his broom. The quaffle forgotten, he was clutched onto his broom with only his fingertips.

"C'mon," James urged softly beside me. "Get back on."

I bit my lip nervously as my heart started to pound.

"What a spectacular display of defense by Wigtown beaters Max Guevara and Benjamin King. You rarely see Dopplebeater plays anymore with such precision. Both bludgers hit at the same exact time at the same exact target. Gray seems to be okay now. He's back on his broom."

I joined several people around me in clapping for him. The gits sitting behind us booed.

"Meanwhile, Ward has the quaffle and is heading down the right side of the pitch. Still waiting for a sight of that elusive snitch."

Even after another hour of playing, the snitch was nowhere to be found. I watched both teams' seekers as they flew around like hawks searching for prey.

"You reckon they'll catch it soon?" I asked James.

"You never know," he replied with a shrug. "I've heard of games that have gone on for days."

"Ugh," I groaned. "Tuney will murder me if we miss her wedding."

"Don't worry, love," James said reassuringly. "They'll—"

He stopped talking as he turned his attention to the pitch. One of the Wigtown chasers was heading towards the hoops.

"Where's Marshall?" I asked as I looked at the defenseless hoops. I turned to see him getting smacked in the arm by a bludger.

"Turner heads towards the goal. He gets right up to the center hoop and places it in there."

A whistle sounded. "Foul!" bellowed the referee. "Goal does not count. Penalty shot awarded to Puddlemere."

The blokes behind us started screaming obscenities. "Are you bloody blind, ref? It went right in!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have flobberworms for brains?"

"That's such bullshit! Get your eyes out of your ass!"

"That goal was perfect! What are you doing?"

Annoyed, I turned around to face them with an irritated expression. "The chaser still had his hand on the quaffle as he put it into the hoop. The official rule is that it needs to be thrown in. It's called haversacking, and it's a foul. Merlin, read a Quidditch manual." With that, I promptly turned back around in my seat with a satisfied huff.

James turned to stare at me with an awed expression.

"What?" I asked self-consciously. "Quidditch is important to you. I wanted to understand so I read Quidditch Through the Ages."

He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me. He pulled back with a huge, goofy grin plastered to his face. "I love you," he breathed.

He held my hand as we both turned our attention back to the game.

"And Alex Harris scores the penalty shot, no problem. The score is now 140 to 110 in favor of the Wigtown Wanderers. You usually expect higher than that, but the keeping has just been superb today. Wilkinson gains possession of the quaffle-Merlin! Scott has spotted the snitch!"

I stood up to get a better view of the blur of red robes speeding across the pitch.

Frantically, I turned to look for Boyd. He was all the way on the other side of the pitch.

"Cindy Scott is chasing after that snitch with Sammy Boyd somewhere on the other side! Look at him fly to catch up to her! I don't think I've seen a hex move that fast."

Indeed, Boyd was speeding across the pitch like nothing I had ever seen before. Within seconds, he was just a few meters behind Scott, who was still actively pursuing the snitch. A few bursts of speed more, and both players were so close that a quick glance at the large screen showed their elbows jabbing into each other's sides.

"C'mon, Boyd!" I screamed.

"Knock her off!" James yelled out hoarsely.

They both spiraled into dives that were practically perpendicular to the ground.

"They're gonna crash!" Dad yelled out.

"No! No! They're gonna make it!" James screamed.

He was right. Arms outstretched, they both leveled out a mere ten meters above the ground as they kept their pursuit of the tiny ball.

"Scott's almost there!" the announcer called excitedly. "Just one more second, and she'll have it."

I watched on the screen as her fingers scrapped against the ball.

"No! She fumbles! It slides through her fingers! Boyd is there! He makes the catch! I can't believe it! Samuel Boyd of Puddlemere United catches the golden snitch to end the match right after it slips out of Cindy Scott's fingers. That's his fourteenth consecutive catch this season! Puddlemere gains 150 points to end the game! Final score is 140 to 260. Puddlemere United wins!"

I missed the final score because I was too busy trying to scream the lungs right out of my body. I hugged everyone around me before I gave my dad a big kiss on the cheek. "We won!" I cheered. "We won!"

"Puddlemere!" Dad yelled back.

James picked me up and swung me around. "Yes!" he shouted.

The stadium was almost too loud. My ears rang from the noise. Sirens and horns blared as people dressed in blue rejoiced in the stands.

The blokes in red behind us slumped back in their seats.

"Better luck next time, boys!" I called out to them with a wide smile on my face.

We were still discussing the game when we were sitting at a large booth in a nearby muggle restaurant about an hour later.

"No way did I see Boyd stealing that snag away from Scott," Sirius remarked with a joyous tone.

"He can't be stopped," Hestia announced as she flipped through her notes. "That boy was born to catch the snitch."

I bit into my half-eaten cheeseburger ravenously. "It was bloody amazing," I agreed between bites.

"I've never seen anything like it," replied Dad, whose face still bore the same giddy grin that had yet to fad since we had entered the pitch.

"You're lucky, Papa E," Sirius told him as he clapped Dad on the back. "That was a hell of a game to be your first."

"It was amazing," James said. "Terrific playing. Great defensively and offensively. Throwing patterns were extremely tight on both sides."

"James, you make it sound so technical," Hestia teased. "Can't you stop being Quidditch Captain for a second?"

Putting down his spicy chicken sandwich, he straightened up importantly. "You could learn a few things from Guevara, Hest," he told her. "Your beating was looking a little sloppy towards the end of our season."

Hestia rolled her eyes and took a sip out of the loopy green straw of her fruity martini. "We still won the Cup," she reminded him.

"That was amazing," breathed Dad.

Hestia laughed. "Glad you enjoyed yourself, Mr. Evans," she said. "It's good to put the new job to good use."

"If you ever get any more tickets-"

"I'll be sure to call you. Now, the big question is, what am I going to write for my article?"

The conversation quickly turned to a bunch of unrelenting bits of advice that earned us dark looks from the other diners seated around us.

About twenty or so minutes later, we finished eating, and Dad paid the check.

"You really don't have to, Mr. Evans," James said as he fished out a bit of muggle money from his pocket.

"My treat," my dad insisted as he waved all the other proffered hands away. "It's the least I could do for you all letting an old man like me tag along with you."

Hestia gave my dad a quick peck on the cheek. "Who said you were old, Mr. Evans? I swear you don't look a day over 25."

I rolled my eyes. There was another one.

One day I would like to live in a world in which no one hit on my parents.

Hestia and Sirius apparated back with us to my house once we left the restaurant. Almost as soon as my feet hit the ground, I heard a large clang of a door closing from behind me. I turned to see Vernon and Petunia exiting his car.

"Is that Vernon?" Sirius asked me in a voice far too loud to be a whisper. "What happened to him? He looks like he fell down the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down."

"Sirius," Hestia scolded as smacked him in the back of the head. "Not so loud." She turned to me with an apologetic grin that was ruined slightly by a large yawn. "Merlin, I'm tired," she sighed.

"You two should head home. It was a long night," I advised. "And you've got work tomorrow."

"Someone's got to get it done," Hestia told me with a smile. She tapped Sirius, who had been yelling things out to my sister, on the arm. "You ready to head out?"

"Ready when you are, love," he replied.

Hestia wrapped her arms around me warmly. "Love you, best friend."

"Love you more," I countered.

She scoffed. "I love you most. There."

I laughed as she said goodbye to James and then my dad. "I promise I'll come visit soon," she vowed.

I gave Sirius a hug and then waved them goodbye before they disappeared from sight.

We followed Vernon and Petunia into the house through the front door. James disappeared into the living room, and I moved to follow him, but my dad held me back.

"Can I talk to you for a second, Lils?" he asked.

"Sure, Dad," I replied curiously as I joined him in the kitchen. I sat down onto an empty chair beside him. "What's up?" I asked. "Any more questions about the game?"

"No," he answered with a chuckle. "I had a great time, though. Make sure you thank Hestia again."

I nodded.

"That Sirius is quite funny. I like him."

I snorted. "He's definitely unique."

"It's good to see you out and about with people like you," he told me. "You were in your element."

I shrugged.

He moved a piece of hair that had fallen out of one of my braids behind my ear. "You're so grown up now, baby girl."

I exhaled. "Aww, c'mon, Dad," I protested.

"No, I mean it, Lils. You've changed. You're more mature now."

I shrugged. "Had to happen, I suppose."

He took my hand and grasped it between both of his. "I just wanted to let you know that I approve."

"Of my growing up?" I asked.

"Of James," he answered.

"Oh," I realized. "Oh."

He sighed. "I don't want to give you up, and, believe me, I gave your mother an earful when you first told us. You're still so young still. But it's not my decision to make. It's yours, and I trust you. You're a smart girl, Lily, and James is a good guy. He really loves you."

"Yes," I agreed. "He does."

"And you love him?"

I felt my heart swell in my chest. "Very much."

Dad sighed. "I know. That's what makes this so hard."

"What?"

"Letting you go," he replied. "It's the only thing I can do to make you happy, but I know it'll make me miserable."

"Oh, Dad," I sighed.

"James asked me for my permission to marry you, you know, earlier today. He apologized for not doing it before and sought out my blessing."

I sighed. It was such a James thing to do.

"He'll take care of you until the very end when I can't be there anymore. He'll look after you. I know he will."

"Dad, why are you doing this?" I asked as I tried to stop the tears welling up in my eyes.

He patted my hand, letting his fingers fall on top of the diamond resting on my fourth finger.

"I just wanted to give you my blessing to marry James. You're not my baby girl anymore, Lily. You're a grown woman now. About to get married, even," he quipped with an attempt at a smile before his eyes turned more serious. "And I would not let you go if it was anyone else."

I sniffed and brushed my eyes. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Lily," he told me. He clapped his hand on my knee. "Go on," he urged me. "Scat." He laughed shakily. "I've got to go talk to your mother anyway. God only knows how mad she is at us for staying out so late."

I chuckled weakly as he walked away.

I found James sitting on the loveseat in the living room.

"I was just going to meet you outside," he told me.

I sat down next to him and cuddled up into his side.

"Are we not meeting by the swings?"

I didn't answer him. Instead, I laced my arms around his neck and looked up at his confused hazel eyes. "Thank you," I told him.

"For what?" he asked. "Oh," he realized. He rumpled the back of his head with his right hand. "I felt like it was right thing to do."

I fingered the dark hair at the base of his neck as I rested my head on his shoulder. "I love you," I whispered to him as I closed my eyes and inhaled the smell of his neck.

He hummed softly and kissed my forehead. James's hands rubbed soothing circles along my spine.

I nuzzled my face onto his chest. "Today was fun," I mumbled into his shirt.

"Mmm," he agreed, his chest rumbling as he breathed in and out.

I yawned. "Tomorrow I have to go do bachelorette things," I slurred sleepily. "For Tuney."

"Sounds fun," he said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Mum helped me plan Honor Maid, uh, that stuff."

"Do you think that'll take all day? My parents came home today, and I thought we could have dinner with them."

"Okay," I sighed.

I yawned before I eventually fell asleep in his arms.

Story credits to Molly Raesly